


i'll give you one night only, for your eyes only

by Capbuckyang



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Comfort, Friendship/Love, Multi, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capbuckyang/pseuds/Capbuckyang
Summary: Flower's first game back in Pittsburgh.





	i'll give you one night only, for your eyes only

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't perfectly edited, so I apologize for any mistakes. I just needed something like closure after seeing Flower come home and everyone's reaction to it. Title is from the song used in Flower's tribute [ video](https://twitter.com/penguins/status/961041569544630272).

It feels the same yet so incomprehensibly different that it’s difficult to feel let alone describe. Nealer grabs his arm once he’s out of his pads and heading for the home locker room and Marc lets him, stays put when Nealer eyes him warily while Hauls and Schmidty stare over his shoulder, paused mid step in getting dressed. 

“You don’t have to go,” Nealer says and it’s not a last ditch effort to keep him here with his new team, he knows that, even if it may seem like it is. It’s an out, to avoid the crushing weight on his chest and billow out of the away locker room of a building he knows to it’s core. 

Nealer doesn’t get that as much as he wants to walk away, he wants to be here even more, absorb the different energy of the consol center and be surrounded by people he might not have as teammates anymore but will always remain family for him. 

“I’ll be okay, Nealer, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” Marc says it gently because despite it all, the Knights feel fragile here, even if they’re in the top of the league and playing incredibly well. It’s like an ex lover, hard to shake. 

Nealer nods and lets him go and Marc grins at Pebbles and Subby before walking out into the room that’s both familiar and strangely not familiar at all anymore. 

*

“Bienvenue à la maison,” Kris says when Marc walks in. He's sitting crossed leg in his stall, hair still wet from his shower and he’s grinning so brightly Marc can’t stop the offering grin in return. Marc looks around the empty locker room and raises his eyebrow in question. 

“The boys will see you after, it’s just me, you and Sid,” Kris informs him and sees Sid come out of the showers, towel draped over his hips, chain around his neck catching droplets of water.

“Muzz?” Marc asks, avoiding Sid’s smirk when he catches Marc taking him in all flushed and naked. It’s been a long damn time, he’s allowed to indulge. 

“Ah, your protege we sent home, you were ours first you know,” Kris says in reply and Marc’s stomach tightens in anticipation. He circles around the pens logo and stands in front of Sid, watching the mix of emotions play across his face. 

“He was mines first,” Marc says and he’s not sure if he means Muzz or Sid or maybe even Kris, but Sid melts anyway, tugs him close and kisses him softly, wrapping his arms around Marc in almost desperation. 

“Not here,” Sid says when he pulls away and Marc nods, feels Kris against his back, broad as always, warm, heady scent so familiar it makes him ache inside. 

Kris kisses the back of his neck and rests his chin on Marc’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist and smiling over at Sid. 

Marc turns his head and kisses Kris’s temple dragging his lips down until Kris turns to face him and it feels so right, it feels so good, he doesn’t stop kissing Kris until his neck aches a little and Sid makes a soft sound. He never was one to be left out of the spotlight. Marc laughs and tugs Sid closer by the loose knot in his towel, rubs his thumb under his belly button and feels Sid shiver. 

They’re still so easy for him, so perfect; he misses them more than he can put into words. 

“Well then take us where you want us,” Marc says when Kris leaves persistent kisses down his neck and Sid can’t do more than watch in twisted pleasure, mouth all pink and wet with want. Sid guides them and Marc follows, one hand holding Sid’s the other locked away with Kris.

*

“Who’s been taking care of him?” Marc asks, sitting up with Sid’s head resting gently on his stomach, Kris’s chest against his back, tangled and messy, but comfortable. 

Kris absently reaches for Sid every few minutes and they’ve all been close, especially with touch, but there’s a new sense of ease and need in the way Sid leans into Kris. It makes him smile rather than feel jealous or replaced, they’ve all had to cope and it warms his heart to know his boys are there for each other when he can’t be. 

“He didn’t tell us at first,” Sid says with a layer of guilt in his voice that makes Marc want to hold him closer. “I didn’t even realize. It’s so stupid I should’ve known it was getting bad but he seemed okay, even better, but then we started losing like shit and Jarrs came into the picture, too.”

“You started when I told you he called me?” Marc asks, knows Muzz is hard, always would be to break though his barriers and let him just ask for what he needs. Guidance, comfort, touch, advice. Marc broke down every barrier Matt had, he knows. 

“Tanger did,” Sid says and Marc feels Kris smile against his shoulder. “Matty just has a thing for French Canadians, I think,” Kris says and Marc laughs, feels Sid laugh too, the familiar honk of joy making his chest ache.

“It’s been good now,” Kris says and Marc leans back a little to catch his eye. “We both missed you like hell, so we bonded,” Kris shrugs and Marc doesn’t want to cry again tonight, he’s already shed too many tears so openly on the ice, but he can’t help when his eyes water a bit. He really is growing soft. Kris kisses him, soft and slow, easing away the ache until he can’t think about anything else. Sid’s mouth is soft and hot against his chest, his stubble rubbing his skin tender until he reaches Marc’s neck. He sucks against his skin there until Marc lets go of Kris to breathe out deeply, knows Sid’s left a bruise, relishes in it. 

“We’ll always miss you, Flower,” Sid whispers against his neck and Marc lets the tears roll then, lets Sid and Kris hold him and love him and wreck him and build him up again for as long as they have. 

*

Matt shows up at his hotel room with his favorite breakfast in the morning, smiling shyly and Marc feels almost bad for a second, should’ve spent more time with him here, asked about everything after his father’s death and even before.

Matt doesn’t let him feel bad. “Morning, Flower,” he says brightly and god Marc missed him. He lets him in and watches him set up the tiny cafe table in the corner of the room and draw the curtains. “When does the bus leave?” “Later,” Marc says since he hasn’t even checked the time and his girls will probably want to finish saying hi to all their old friends first. 

Pebbles texted him after midnight, making sure if he needed anything and cocooned between Sid and Kris last night, it added another layer of security and comfort to know his other home, his new team, is still waiting for him, needing him.

His thoughts are derailed when Matt kicks off his shoes and stands in front of Marc. He’s tall, looks bigger, more muscle and his eyes, pretty blue green as always, seem more weary. Marc knows him. Knows the hunch of his shoulders and twist of his mouth and the scar near his collarbone from Wilkes Barres years ago. “I missed you, Matty,” Marc says since it’ll choke him if he doesn’t and Matt opens up like a flower to the sun, and isn’t that some odd kind of irony. They hug and Marc wants to say so much more, tell him how proud he is, how hard it must be, how well he’s been doing, but he just holds him instead, lets the soft swell of Matt's sobs muffle against his neck and kisses his temple and hair. 

He gives him comfort in French, because that’s what he does, he leads by example, he’s solid when needed, he teaches, he loves, he gives his whole soul until it’s aching and then some more.

“Your coffee's gonna get cold,” Matt says eventually and Marc laughs. 

They eat together, Matt’s ankle wrapped around his foot, a point of contact and Marc smiles when he bites into the chocolate croissant. 

“How’d it feel? Being back?” Matt asks him when they’re mostly done and just lazing around on Marc’s bed, cuddling essentially but he’ll never call Matt out on that. Marc kisses his shoulder and smiles when he gets another text from Nealer, then Sid, and finally Veronique. His girls are standing in the park, smiling at him with melting ice cream cones in their hands. “Flower?” Matt nudges him and Marc looks out of the window, sees Pittsburgh’s sun outside, feels whole and open and aching in a good way. 

“It feels like home.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ tumblr](http://avasilevskiy.tumblr.com)


End file.
